The Wheels of the Bus
by Tsuki Amano
Summary: He despised the bus ride he was forced to endure everyday. But the handsome American certainly made things infinitely more enjoyable. USUK oneshot for Valentine's Day.


**The Wheels of the Bus**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own them and probably never will.

Happy Valentine's Day everybody (or Single's Awareness Day according to what you celebrate.)

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><p>Tennyson never failed to strike the chords of emotion that were so firmly lodged within his soul. The lilting tune of his verse complimented the warm golden beams that washed over the asphalt languidly. A few wisps of white were carelessly brushed across the azure ocean, lazily wafting along in the slight breeze of the early evening. Strolling under the shade provided by the trees that lined the walkway, Arthur brushed a stray leaf from his hair, humming softly to himself as he made his way to the bus stand.<p>

It wasn't that Arthur didn't like the classes he attended. No, he quite enjoyed the subjects he had opted for, the lectures were stimulating and the assignments proved to be rather fulfilling. He was never very sociable either, and apart from that blasted frog, no one else really gave him any trouble. Admittedly, the food left a lot to be desired but he didn't like to be too fussy. Anything was better than his brother's haggis after all.

The true bane of his scholastic life was the time he spent in commute each day, a good one hour was spent travelling back and forth from his home. His family wasn't too well-off and he couldn't afford the private bus services provided by the college, instead, he made the fifteen minute trek each day to the public bus stand. Once he caught a bus, he'd spend the next hour or so staring out the window, listening to music, reading a book and so on. This had been his routine for the last year and a half and he had always assumed that this would be his routine until he graduated college. All that changed one fateful day in September.

Arthur had just sat down, content with the fact that he gotten a window seat and was in the process of untangling his headphones when a shadow fell over him. Glancing up, his eyes widened at the sight of a tall, rather dashing young man. Cornflower blue eyes were partially concealed by spectacles, the man raked a hand through his messy blond hair as he asked, "Hey, is this seat taken pal?" Arthur had barely nodded in confirmation when the stranger plonked himself down and proceeded to pull out a cell phone.

The next hour was filled with the damned American's one-sided conversation, complete with complaints, curses and several desecrations of the Queen's English. Seldom had Arthur ever felt so murderous.

To his dismay, the man got off at the same stop, walking in the same direction. Thankfully, he turned onto another road, Arthur didn't know what he would have done had the obnoxious Yank been his neighbor. Unlocking his door, he set his bag down on the coffee table and picked up his brown tabby. "Good Lord Albion, you won't believe the absolute cur I was stuck next to today." As he tucked himself in that night, a quiet voice whispered in the stillness of his thoughts, that as obnoxious as the man had been, he had been rather good looking.

The next day, Arthur was stunned to see the same man, sitting in the same seat. Wearing a pale blue t-shirt, he looked much younger than Arthur had expected. Glancing up at him, the man beamed, causing Arthur's heart to skip a beat. He willed the heat in his cheeks away. "Hey! You're the same dude from yesterday! My name's Alfred, Alfred F. Jones. Sorry man, I would have totally gotten your name yesterday but my brother was giving me hell you know? You want the window seat again?"

Nodding numbly, Arthur clambered over Alfred and took his seat. "Erm…I'm Arthur Kirkland. It's nice to meet you old chap."

Alfred's eyes lit up. "You're British? That's so awesome! Do you really spell color with a 'u' and drive on the wrong side of the road?"

Scowling, Arthur remarked, "As it happens, it's you lot that drive on the wrong side of the road. And yes we do spell it with a 'u'." Any hopes he'd had that Alfred would let him be died as the American proceeded to make small talk throughout their journey. By the time they reached their stop, Arthur knew far more about Alfred then he had ever wanted to.

But he couldn't even pretend that he didn't smile a little as Alfred waved exuberantly at him when they parted.

Slowly, Alfred became a part of Arthur's life. They never met on campus, Arthur was always in the arts block and Alfred spent his time in the science block. Inadvertently, the only time they met was the one hour they spent returning home. But somehow, that was more than enough for a strong bond to form between the two. Arthur found himself listening to Alfred's day to day activities, consoling him when he revealed his insecurities and helping him with some of his assignments. When he broke up with his girlfriend, Arthur was the first one to know.

He couldn't be sure when it happened, when the dynamics of their relationship began to change. Perhaps it was when, one day in March, Arthur was showing Alfred some of his knitting. He was planning to make a scarf for his friend and had decided on blue wool, to bring out the color of his eyes. Alfred looked at him contemplatively and said, "You know, you have nice eyes. I wonder if anyone's ever told you that."

The flush on his cheeks was scalding because, no, no one had ever told him that and no one was meant to, especially not his closest friend.

The next day, Arthur cursed under his breath as the bell rang, signaling the end of classes. The sky was overcast and gloomy, but he didn't have an umbrella. Swearing, he slung his bag over his shoulder and marched out the front door, only to slam into something warm and solid. "Hiya Artie!"

"You bloody git! What are you doing here?" He ignored the bright grin on the other's face, concentrating on the task of controlling his breathing instead. "Well…" stalled Alfred, "You told me yesterday that you didn't have an umbrella and I didn't want you getting sick, so here I am!" And indeed, in Alfred's hand was a large black umbrella.

The pair walked to the bus stop in comfortable silence. The umbrella was small enough that they needed to remain huddled together. Arthur's arm kept brushing against Alfred's side, but neither minded. Once they were almost home, he worked up the courage to thank the other for his efforts. "Alfred, I would like to…that is to say that I…well…"

Alfred looked his red face and laughed, "That's alright Artie. Anything for you! Man, you're so cute sometimes, you know?"

Arthur was quite certain that that had been the turning point in their relationship. After that, the pair became almost inseparable. Alfred would pop up at lunch, dragging Arthur from his self-enforced isolation to the cafeteria, where they would sit together with Alfred's, no their, friends. Occasionally, they'd hang out after college. Alfred's mother was relieved that _one_ of her son's friends wasn't a gaming addict.

Arthur actually began to use his phone, texting Alfred about the most inane of things. For his part, Alfred wished Arthur good night faithfully every day.

It was a year later that Alfred asked Arthur out. It wasn't anything special, there was a new horror movie out and Alfred invited Arthur to see it. Luckily, Arthur had known him long enough to read between the lines. If he ignored the tacky special effects and the cholesterol laden popcorn, he'd admit that he enjoyed the feeling of Alfred clutching onto him for protection.

***Five months later***

"Alfred, you need to get up. Don't you have a lab at nine?"

The lump which he was poking groaned, and shifted. "Ugh….Artie, I don't wanna. Let me sleep in with you!" He grabbed Arthur's waist tightly, nuzzling Arthur's hair. Arthur smiled fondly; this was one of their many rituals now, "Alfred, love, come on now."

He could sense the man pouting. "Fine, but not without my good morning kiss."

Laughing softly, he pecked Alfred on the lips, pulling away and hoisting himself out of bed. He sauntered to the bathroom, turning around halfway, "I'm going to take a shower. Care to keep me company?"

He didn't need to look back for the answer.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>

Yes, I know I should be working on Ink, but I'm afraid my multi chaptered works are being placed on the back burner till next month on account of real life.

As always, feedback is highly valued.


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